


Opening Salvo

by BlackButterfly



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Missing Scene, Mycroft Holmes - Freeform, Season/Series 03, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 15:42:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2393915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackButterfly/pseuds/BlackButterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes receives a visit from Mycroft while in a SIS holding cell after shooting Magnussen and is reminded of a previous Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opening Salvo

January 06 2014

The SIS building at Vauxhall Cross loomed over the London skyline monstrously. A mix mash of shadowy black towers and blinding white pillars and pyramids that delights the conspiracy theorists whom no doubt in turn amuse and delight the architects and agents within. That it is based on an Aztec sacrificial slaughterhouse is rarely mentioned.

Twelve floors below a shadowy tower , in a whitewashed cell of glass and stainless steel , Sherlock Holmes stares up and imagines he sees the sky.

The distinctive tapping footsteps from soft Italian leather - hand stitched by Weston brogues - worn by a man of 185cm weighing approximately 63Kgs - with the well paced gait of the lazy and preceded by the annoying tap of an umbrella , is a welcome distraction. A tribute only to the tedious grey of the clouds.

The footsteps come to a halt as does the infernal umbrella tapping and there's a soft rustle of expensive fabric as the man takes his seat outside the glass . The moulded metal is surely a cold affront to his dignity. There's a silent pause no doubt for dramatic effect and then eventually Mycrofts perfectly pronounced voice floats smoothly through.

"Do you remember Christmas of 2005 brother?" enquired in the blandest of tones.

Unmoving bar from the rolling of his eyes "Should I ?" Sherlock monotones back.

"Hmmm..." hums Mycroft before continuing infuriatingly snide

" I was gifted a waistcoat once worn by none other than Winston Churchill, and you , a pair of throwing knives with which you became frighteningly proficient by boxing day."  
Another dramatic pause.  
"To the detriment of my waistcoat. "

Sherlock snorts and jumps up striding over to take the moulded metal seat thats positioned opposite its mate on the other side of the glass upon which Mycroft delicately perches.  
He waves his arm..." Is there a point to all this...nostagia Mycroft? "

Mycrofts smug grin appears " The wrapping dear boy. Recall the wrapping. Mine a festive green with a golden bow no less! _Yours_  , a dubiously stained brown paper that I believe originated as a grocery bag ."

Mycroft pauses , sniffs disdainfully and curls his lip then continues in a vastly amused drawl " No doubt it should have been perfectly obvious to me a decade ago that one day you would receive stolen government secrets incredibly well wrapped ,and that I would find myself gifted a corpse , and then would be left to see to the wrapping myself. Perhaps I should be grateful you didn't leave it leaking and rotting under the tree frightening mummy!"

Sherlocks scowls and looks away folding his arms and huddles into his coat .

"I do hope the other recipient is as grateful as I , though It's doubtful he will see so clearly that it is the sentiment that counts , is it not. If you ask my opinion on occasion nostalgia has the more appropriate action . Imagine it was not so long ago we took the heads of murderous traitors and displayed them on spikes outside The Tower and yet here you are the generous knight bestowing them with your seasonal benevolence. " Mycroft finishes savagely.

Sherlock shakes his head and mimes mockingly at the wall before saying nastily " The exercise has gone to your head brother. Clearly! "  
Sherlock sighs and returns to contemplating the wall.  
"I always thought you would be above gloating Mycroft. A mistake. Obviously. "

Mycroft laughs mockingly " Oh come now brother...why that you of all people...you! ...appear to have not only commited a crime dè passion but have pulled it off! Why I think it's marvellous! "

Mycroft stands elegantly and leans on his umbrella 'Well.' he muses ominously into a long silence .

Then without any noticable warning theres the beep beep of an electronic code and the rush of cool air as the glass door slides silently open.

Startled Sherlock jerks his head back to his brother who comments pompously

" It seems Sherlock , that the eastern european job can no longer be turned down . There's a slim chance of course , that you might find a way to...shall we say wrap things up neatly , but after all these years of thinking it an unimportant triviality it's unlikely you will take the lesson. "

The unsuitably yellow umbrella points down the empty corridor.

" We've prepared the papers for you to sign and then you have a flight to catch .Your all packed and I have a suitable change of clothes for you."

Mycroft wrinkles his nose and turns walking away "You'll shower too you smell like a farm animal."

The side of Sherlocks face lifts in a half smile behind Mycrofts back as he adjusts his scarf , thrusts his hands into his coat pockets , and confidently follows.

Saying goodbye to John Watson and contemplating the success of a mission his brother considers inevitably fatal is more of a lesson than expected .  
Especially as it lasted all in all less than thirty minutes.

Allowing himself to be hustled back into the car he pretends not to hear Mycrofts snide and uneccessary "Ah John. Best you take your wife home we can't risk leaks when the nations security is at risk now can we."  
Further and more seriously he pretends not to see the glare Mycroft aims at Mrs Watsons retreating back and Johns beautifully beaming face dim.

Inside the sleek and melodic black car Sherlock purloins Antheas laptop and watches the mp4 file . He snorts amused on discovering it's entitled 'fromhell.mp4.' , then types furiously the keys clacking loudly into the upholstered silence.

"You have a leak with cobra access Mycroft." Sherlock states.

Mycroft hums in agreement and raises an eyebrow condescendingly .

"But Moriarty..Why would someone........." Sherlock questions consideringly . He ponders a moment and then exclaims triumphantly " Oh! Oh! Cheese ! "

Mycroft nods " Quite so. Softly softly catch a monkey. '" Mycrofts smug grin reappears.

"I think you mean mole Mycroft. " says Sherlock confused.

" No. Mr Holmes refers from the popular works of Agatha Christie. The Mousetrap I believe. " corrects Anthea briefly looking up from her blackberry.

Sherlock pauses clacking and stares blankly.Mouth agape.

Mycroft sighs dejectedly before droning sternly and patronisingly "I do hope that you will take this opportunity seriously Sherlock. The Moriarty files will make impressive reading for some important people and a timely reminder of your value. But nobody is infallible or irreplaceable. There will be no dragon slaying this time."

Offended , Sherlock snaps sharply, "I don't need to impress anyone."

"Never the less you must at least not give the appearance of being a dangerous rogue." remarks Anthea as she draws Mycrofts attention to her blackberry.

When the car arrives at Baker Street Sherlock is surprised to see two couriers waiting , one with a steel encased briefcase , the other has a badly concealed weapon and suspicious eyes.

Mycroft signs for the briefcase with a thumb print and a six digit code and waits until the men have left before handing it over to Sherlock.

"By the bye brother" remarks Mycroft blandly as Sherlock steps into the doorway  
"I ate the birthday cake Mrs Hudson made you earlier but as you will no doubt agree sixty two kilos does sit well on me. The running does have it's advantages as you can see."

Another of Mycrofts absurd pauses is followed by a frown and a steely glare that accompany a resigned  
"Lets....not....do.....gifts. ..next. ....year."

Sherlock laughs hugging the briefcase to his chest and smiles widely saying cheerfully "Sixy three kilos now Mycroft at the least!'"  
Before stepping inside and slamming the heavy black door in Mycrofts face.

 

/roll the theme tune.

**Author's Note:**

> First fic first post no beta.  
> Criticism@Kudos welcomed.  
> TY.


End file.
